Harvest
by Enide Dear
Summary: Genesis finds a young cadet who doesn't like dumbapples and sets out to remedy the situation like only Genesis can.


Genesis loved autumn. The air was fresh and crisp, lending itself well to out-doors poetry readings, the weather was brisk enough to warrant wearing his favorite coat and the colours of the trees were complementary. And of course, it was the time to harvest Banora White apples.

Dumb apples, as they were called by common louts, did bear fruit all year around, but it was generally acknowledged by the Gaia Gourmand Society that they tasted the best after a light frost had brought out the sweet aromas of the purple flesh. At least they had unanimously voted so after Genesis first and only appearance at club. Few people argued with someone who was casually picking some unfortunate wutai soldiers blood out from under his manicured nails with a four foot flaming rapier.

Ah yes, Genesis thought to himself as he strode along his family's ancient orchard, breathing in the heady scent of fresh loam and sweet apples; what could be better than an autumn day spent picking apples?

Getting someone else to do it for you, of course.

He smiled cheerfully as he took in the sight of the Third Infantry Platoon, aka 'the Unlucky Bastards' who he had requisitioned to help get the harvest in. The young troopers didn't seem quite in the spirit of things, sulking around under the heavy weight of full apple baskets or climbing around precautious in the arching trees. Possibly they missed the entertainment and fun of a week's leave in Midgar or the excitement of the battlefield. He should do something to cheer them up again. Clearing his throat he lifted his voice, trained to carry orders over battlefields, and started:

"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess…."

The wind sure was sighing heavily in the branches today.

"This sucks." Grumbling, cadet Strife reached up to try and pick a few of the more low-hanging apples. They'd been here since dawn and by noon he'd sworn off apples forever. Now, in the afternoon, he'd started to develop a phobia against strangely coloured fruit. Picking one dumb apple up, he stared at it as if trying to see through it. "I mean, it's just an apple. What's so special about it?"

"Ask the general." Agile as a squirrel, Zack climbed around in the tree, tossing down apples. He grinned down. "Maybe if you eat enough of them, you'll be able to wield flaming swords and charge Sephiroth as well."

"Yeah, that'd be the day." Listlessly, Cloud held up the apple. Then he took a bite; purple juice dripped on his uniform. "It's not even that good." He complained. "I really don't see the point of this…"

A flaming rapier pierced straight through the apple, scorching the fruit. Cloud fell back with a yelp and his team mate in the tree clung shivering to the branches. Suddenly the orchard was dead silent as the irate general leaned over the helpless trooper, except for the short shout made by Zack as he lost his grip in fear and fell down the tree.

"Not special? Not *good*?!" Mako eyes burned almost as hot as the rapier. "Not. Good?!"

"Sorry sir!" Scrambling backwards, Cloud desperately floundered for something to say that would save him getting skewered. "It's just…it's just that it's just….just a fruit, sir."

The silence got deeper. You could have heard a needle fall. Even Zack could just stare in dread as one of the troopers he was set as sergeant over – as well as his best friend – seemed to shrink under the irate gaze. Cloud swallowed and closed his eyes, convinced he was as good as dead as the general leaned over him, looking like Cloud had slapped him in the face.

A strong hand grabbed the trooper by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up. Yelping, Cloud's arms and legs wavered around quite uselessly.

"Right." Genesis said through gritted teeth. "You are coming with me."

Still convinced he was going to die, possibly in some horrible, burning way, Cloud tried to fight his way free as he was dragged along but to no avail. Genesis might look slender but he had a grip like a vice and was far stronger than the slender frame revealed. They reached a strange, low building in the outskirts of the orchard and Genesis unlocked the door; the struggling trooper in his other hand not even making him miss the keyhole.

Cloud was dragged into a surprisingly well lit and airy room and dumped on a comfortable chair in front of a table. Shocked he looked around but it was no comforting sight; stainless steel desks and cupboards, along with a whole wall lined by some infernal machine that would not look out of place at Hojo's lab. The machine bubbled and burped; Cloud fought about rabbiting but what would be the point? Rumors said the First Class Soldiers could *fly*.

"Zack knows I'm here!" He managed; perhaps that would keep the general from torturing him and dumping his dead body in a shallow grave.

"Zackary Fair," Genesis huffed as he busied himself with something over at the huge machine. "He always volunteers for Junon guard duty this week of the year. As does Sephiroth and Angeal. What they see in that awful dump I have no idea." He turned a tap, pouring something from the machine.

*It's far, far from here.* Cloud thought but didn't dare say out loud. He jumped as Genesis slammed something down on the table in front of him. It was a tall glass, filled with a blue, bubbly liquid.

"Drink." The general demanded.

Cloud hesitated, but obeyed. At least poison would be quick.

"It's good!" He said surprised, licking blue froth from his lips.

Something in Genesis stance relaxed and the man preened a little. Flattery seemed the way to go.

"Of course it is good. It's Banora White Juice. I made it myself." He waved at the machine and now Cloud recognized it for what it was; an enormous moonshine apparatus. "I got Reeve Tuetsi to help me design it and that Highwind fellow to build it. Did you enjoy the drink?"

"M-hm." Nodding vigorously, Cloud drained the last of the drink. "It was refreshing and….just a bit tart, not too sweet. "

Mako eyes watched him closely. Cloud blinked innocent, huge eyes at him. It usually did the trick.

Apparently those eyes got him off the hook this time as well; Genesis walked over to the machine and handed him another glass of of Juice.

"Sit. Wait. Drink." Cloud didn't even dare to show his surprise as the general rummaged around the room, producing several large bowls, an apple peeler, flour, sugar, spices, dumbapples – of course – and perhaps most surprising, an apron. That at least made Cloud relax a little; he was in the military as a young, short, blonde and wide eyed cadet – he was very familiar with kinks involving a frilly apron. But this time it was the other man who put it on and started wielding the apple peeler as if on a battle field. A kitchen. These endless steel boards and sharp knives were a kitchen.

Uncertain of what to expect, Cloud leaned back and tried to enjoy his soda.

It was the middle of night when the door to the Third Infantry Platoon was opened and someone groaned their way in. Immediately the lights were on as every cadet in there threw themselves over their missing comrade. Cloud just whined and pressed his hands to his belly.

"What did he do?"

"Did he beat you up?"

"Did he steal your kidney?"

"Did he kiss you?"

Each question was met by painful, slow head shakes until Zack managed to shoo away enough people from Cloud's bunk so he could breath.

"He fed me." Cloud to whine managed between cramps.

This wasn't met by an overabundance of pity. Food was always too scarce in a group of hard-training young men no matter ShinRa's best efforts. Even Zack looked put upon.

"He fed you?!" Zack said askance. "Hell, I'm going to insult those apples tomorrow!"

"No!" Cloud's voice cut through the mumble of general agreement. "Don't do it!" He burped. A cloud of apple scent wafted over the room. Cloud groaned.

"What *is* that smell?" Zack, somewhat quicker on the uptake than the rest of them, asked suspiciously.

"He….gave me dumbapple juice. And dumbapple cake. Dumbapple pie. Baked dumbapples. Dumbapple dumbapples…"

Zack started to back away, slowly through the crowd of not-so-bright cadets.

"Those things are pretty tough to digest…."

"Dumbapple curry. Dumbapple tsatsiki…." Another cloud of, to put it finely, regurgitated apples filled the room. "Dumbapple stew….oh gods, my belly….dumbapple sauce…"

Finally getting *were* the smells originated from and why Cloud's blanket kept waving as if in a strong wind, the rest of the cadets bolted. Zack felt a pang of guilt to leave his friend behind, but although he would carry Cloud to the end of the planet, fight for him and die for him he did draw the line somewhere. When it came to a night of trying to digest too many gassy dumbapples, it was each man for his own.


End file.
